The Truth About Forever
by I'veGotAnotherConfessionToMake
Summary: Like all magnificent things, it's very simple


Fear was an emotion that had ruled her life these past two years. Every day she had returned to the forest and sat beside the spring. And every day she talked herself out of drinking the cool, clear water. She was faced with the choice of a lifetime. Yet, what would she choose, was a mystery even to herself.

How would she do it? How could she break her parents' heart in such a way? Her first disappearance with the Tuck's had been hard enough for them, what would happen to them if she were to suddenly be stuck as she was now, eventually disappearing again, perhaps staging her own death? It would kill her parents to loose her in that manner.

Miles had said it when he told her the Tuck's story. He was still here after everyone he had loved dearly had gone. He was stuck there, always to live with their memory, and he was miserably sick with it. Was that what she wanted?

In her heart, Winnie knew that her parents would one day die. Had she not witnessed her own grandmother pass away in the room down the hall from her own? Had there not been multiple deaths throughout her childhood such as the clerk from the grocers, or the Thompson's little boy? Had she not been there when her own mother had given birth to her dead baby sister, a infant no bigger then a ruler and so very frail? Death was not a stranger to Winnie Foster.

Winnie couldn't place the feeling she had in her heart. She wasn't even sure if she could accurately remember just how Jesse Tuck looked. At night she dreamed of a face she was sure could be his, but what if her heart was painting a picture that was so far from the truth, it would leave her heartsick and bitterly disappointed?

She feared drinking from the spring. She feared not drinking from the spring and passing up the chance to live forever with the family she so dearly loved, with the boy she so dearly loved.

What if life wasn't everything it cracked up to be? Perhaps Tuck had it all wrong.

So far what she had seen of life was very limited, she knew nothing more about people then she had before she met Mae and Tuck. After the Tuck's had left Treegap, Winnie and her family had left to see the world, and come back two years later more educated in culture and closer then ever. And yet, she felt empty. She had seen Paris and walked the 1,652 steps to the very top, looked out over the Seine and imagined what it would have been like to see this view with Jesse.

But for all she had seen, she still felt that she was missing something. It was as though the day, week, the month she had spent with the Tuck's was stored down in her heart never to leave, and she feared she would never be able to let it go and be able to live. She was stuck, a rock at the side of a stream. This couldn't be a way to live either.

Mother had begun the arduous task of finding a suitable man for her only daughter, and with very little success. For all she had done to raise her daughter to be educated and beautiful, she had not accounted for the fact that a woman's heart is a depth of secrets, each as unique as they are commonplace among the hearts of all women. Mother could not understand how Winnie could dance away the night with handsome man after man, and then deny their requests to court her the next day at luncheon.

Winnie was swept away by the glamour of it all, the dresses and fine meals. She had danced with Lords and Earls in England. She had danced across Persian rugs in Istanbul with handsome Turkish men. Winnie had even allowed a young American man, also on holiday, to kiss her on the banks of the Nile River and thought that, _yes, now my life feels complete._

It was times like these, when she was swept away in a waltz, swept up in the glamour and monotony that was her life that Jesse had a habit of sneaking into her consciousness and stay there. She would smile up at her current dance partner and see Jesse smiling back down on her. It hurt her heart more to blink and instead see the harsh reality.

"This is insane," Winnie whispered, her hand cupping a perfect half-moon of water in her palm. "He's probably forgotten all about me by now."

The postcard from New York City said otherwise. It was addressed to her in a foreign hand, and signed on the back with a single word. _Always._

Jesse, she knew it had to be him. Who else would send her a postcard like that? Who else had eternity to wait for her?

Winnie Foster stood, brushing the leaves and grass from her skirt and turned away from the spring. There was always tomorrow. Tomorrow held a sweet kiss of possibility.

"Winifred," Father began, spreading jam over his toast, "have you given any thought to how you would like to celebrate your seventeenth birthday?"

"Oh, Robert," Mother intervened. "I already told you, I have the whole thing planned beautifully"

Winnie looked up from her bowl of porridge. "You do?"

Mother looked across the table at Winnie. "My dear, I've been planning this entre into society for many a year now."

Dread filled Winnie's stomach. She placed down her spoon and stared out the dining room window, out into the woods. How she wished that sixteen could last forever.

Forever.

Sixteen could last forever. She just had to be brave enough to drink from the spring, and then she would be sixteen till the end of time.

Any day now, Jesse could come back for her. What would happen if she hadn't drunk from the spring yet? What if he came back when she was old, and she regretted never having waited for him? What if he came back and decided that loving Winnie wasn't what he wanted after all.

"Winifred?" Mother's voice cut through her reverie. "Are you alright? You look pale. Robert, doesn't she look pale?"

"Yes, I dare say you do Winnie," Father agreed, looking up from his plate.

Mother wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "Winifred, go lie down upstairs, I'll send Elizabeth up with a tonic."

"I'd rather go for a walk," Winnie said. "I think the fresh air would do me good."

Mother pursed her lips. She was torn between demanding her child go up the stairs to her room at once and letting her nearly adult daughter go out into the yard. It was her worst fear that Winifred would die as had her other baby girl.

"Listen to your mother, Winifred," Father said, looking down at his plate and scooping a bite of eggs into his mouth.

Winnie stood from the table and walked as though one sentenced to hang up the stairs. She fell onto her bed fully clothed and pulled her pillow to her chest.

Elizabeth knocked on her door then and let herself into Winnie's room. She had a small silver tray resting on the palm of one hand and a kind smile on her lips. Winnie dared to ask her, "Elizabeth, if you could live forever, would you?"

Slightly taken aback by the oddity of Winnie's question, Elizabeth replied, "Well, Miss, that depends on the circumstances."

"Say there was a boy, a boy who promised you eternity," Winnie began, already starting to feel like she was loosing Elizabeth to the implausibility of it all. "Would you stay, just the way you are, even if it had been years since you had seen him? Is hope enough to go on, that when, or if, you see him again, the days and months apart won't have changed anything?"

Elizabeth considered her answer as she poured the dark liquid tonic onto a spoon. Wordlessly, she held the spoon out to her charge and obediently Winnie took the spoonful, making a face at the taste.

"Is this about the people who kidnapped you?" Elizabeth asked, her voice lowered and soft.

The room suddenly felt stifling. Perhaps Winnie had overestimated Elizabeth and would soon be hearing from her parents, both horrified at the idea of Winnie running off with her supposed kidnappers.

"They didn't kidnap me," Winnie answered.

Elizabeth nodded her head and replied, "Well that would depend on how much you love the person I think. I believe there are soul mate's, people who are made to live together for all eternity, until they die. The bible disagrees with me on this, but I would like to believe that once we pass on and into Heaven, that we will meet our loved ones and continue to live on with them in Paradise."

Winnie considered this.

"Do you think there are things about this world that we do not understand?"

"Well of course!" Elizabeth said with a laugh. She took the spoon back from Winnie and gathered her tray. Leaning forward, she whispered conspiratorially, "I would swear on my mother's grave that I've seen a fairy, bright as daylight, sitting on one of the rose blossoms in the garden."

Winnie wasn't sure what to make of this statement and let Elizabeth leave without another word. Yawning, she lay back on her bed and clutched her pillow tightly to her chest. It wasn't long before she was dreaming, this time of a path in the woods that led to a spring, where a boy sat waiting and watching, hoping for her return.

The day before her seventeenth birthday found Winnie Foster trekking through the woods, her heart beating heavily in her chest. In her hand she clutched a letter, postmarked from Texas and written in a hand she had memorized from the postcard.

At the spring, she fell to her knees, her fingers ripping open the envelope. A trickle of sand fell over her palm and she ran the grainy, tan microscopic pieces of glass between the pads of her fingers and felt a smile grow on her lips. Inside the envelope was another postcard, a picture of the sea and a line of buildings on the coast, each one painted a vibrant color. A couple was walking away, hand in hand, down the beach. She flipped the postcard over and read the words, _till the day I die,_ and felt in her heart she had made up her mind. Yes, this is what she wanted.

Winnie looked down to the spring and cupped a mouthful in her hands, bringing it up to her lips. The cool water tickled her lips. She pulled back her hands and let the water slip away, trickling back into its bowl between the roots of the tree.

There was a party tomorrow night. Mother was inviting Simon Jackson, and despite the love she harbored for Jesse in her heart, Simon was slowly creeping in and taking root as well. Perhaps she would just wait till after the party to decide. It was either Simon or Jesse, and she knew that after the party she would have made a decision. She had to. Time was pressing on, and any day now, Jesse could come back to her.

Already the town was starting to forget about her kidnapping, turning it into a legend, whispered to naughty children by their mothers in the hopes that fear of strangers would keep them safe inside. The man in the yellow suit was but a distant memory. A terrible tragedy to happen to one so far from home, even more terrible since he was laid to rest in a unmarked grave, with no one to claim his body, no one who even knew his name.

Winnie held the envelope close to her heart and looked up at the T carved into the trunk. She ran her fingers over the letter and imagined the Tuck's here, picturing them as they stumbled upon the spring and marveled at their good luck.

As she walked back through the woods, she forced the thought of Jesse Tuck from her mind, determined that she would be open minded to the affection of Simon. She knew her mother and father both approved of the match. All of Treegap would be there to help her celebrate. She would make it a birthday worth remembering.

The evening of Winifred Foster's seventeenth birthday marked the end of one of the hottest days of summer. Her guests were assembled across the lawn, each dressed in their best and looking like a Renoir painting. Tall flutes of champagne sat on tables, soft bulbs of light hung off the tree branches, heavy as though in need of harvesting the fruit.

Winnie felt light headed and bubbly. She put down her flute of champagne and accepted a dance from Ernest, the baker's son, allowing him to glide her across the parquet flooring that had been set up in the middle of a circle of tables covered in white tablecloths that danced in the cool breeze. Her ears thumped with the beat of her heart and she had the vague feeling that Ernest was trying to speak to her, but Winnie closed her eyes and let the sound of the string quartet fill her ears and ensnare her senses.

Ernest released her at the end of the waltz, thanked her for the dance and walked over to Sarah Queen, a pretty girl Winnie's age who had long held a crush on Ernest. He swept her up in a dance and Winnie watched from the sidelines, a new flute of champagne in her fingers.

Her stomach was beginning to ache and she longed for something to eat. Off she went in search of a bite, when Simon intercepted her and asked if she would like to walk around the garden. Winnie accepted, looping her arm through Simon's. As they entered the garden, she realized quite suddenly, and in a way she had never experience before, the utter quiet of the garden. The quartet sounded muted, the talk from the other party guests was like a buzz of honeybees. Champagne clouded her senses.

Winnie looked around the blooms dancing on the breeze and noticed a pair of old ladies sitting stationary on a bench, both pointedly looking away and conversing with one another. Statuesque chaperones.

Simon cleared his throat and placed his hand over hers on his arm. He seemed nervous and Winnie could only guess as to why. The chaperones were talking in much quieter voices now and Simon steered Winnie towards the far end of the garden. Still in plain sight, but out of earshot.

The moon and stars lit up the sky and it was as Winnie studied Simon's face in the shadows of the night that she realized why it was she was so attracted to him. He had Jesse's features. Winnie swallowed hard. Her stomach did a somersault. Simon cleared his throat again and said, "Winifred. Winnie."

Winnie looked away, across the garden at the roses. "Yes, Simon?"

"Well, I can only imagine you know why it is that I wanted to speak privately with you," Simon said, turning them so they would be facing one another. Winnie stared at a point between his eyes. "I'm also sure you are well aware how pleased our parents' would be if you were to accept what it is that I am going to ask of you."

_Just get on with it, _Winnie thought. She looked back to the roses, daring to hope, striving to continue to believe that the anything was possible in this world. Simon reached into his jacket pocket, drawing Winnie's attention. He pulled out a ring, exquisitely cut with diamonds surrounding an emerald.

"Winnie Foster, will you be my wife?" Simon asked looking down at her with hopeful eyes.

Winnie wondered where was the declaration of love? Had she missed it somewhere in his speech as she worried about throwing up the champagne she had drunk? She looked down at the ring. No one in Treegap, not even her mother had a ring so beautiful.

"Winnie?" Simon asked, worried about her lack of response. He had seen her drinking champagne and wondered if she were inebriated. He thought of coming by again in the morning to speak with her when she had a clearer frame of mind.

There was a glint off of the emerald and Winnie eyes were on the roses. She was sure she had seen it, the glow of soft light. She stared hard and there! A tiny being, with gossamer wings was there, sitting on the lip of a ruby red rose. "Simon, do you see!"

Simon looked to the roses and saw their heavy blossoms gently swaying in the wind. He was genuinely concerned for Winnie and her strange behavior. He thought to call for the chaperones but just at that moment, Winnie spoke again, drawing her hand away from his and saying in a voice almost solemn, "Simon, I accept your offer."

Elation, she would be his! Simon Jackson would be the luckiest man in Treegap, having successfully landed the most eligible and sought after girl in town. He scooped her up into his arms, laughing and spinning her around and around. Winnie laughed as well, trying to tell herself that the sinking feeling of her heart was from the drink, not the disappointment she felt at herself. After all, there was no such thing as fairies. She simply had had too much to drink.

When they returned from the garden to the party hand-in-hand, there were claps of congratulations. Mother embraced Winnie with tears rolling down her cheeks. Father clapped Simon on the shoulder and called out for a toast, to the happy couple. All in attendance drank to the life and health of Simon and Winifred.

It was all Winnie could do to keep her smile in place. She danced with Simon the rest of the night, and accepted the well wishes of her guests and future in-laws. At the end of the night, as people were sleepily getting into their cars and carriages, Winnie let Simon kiss her lips. She smiled sweetly at him as he climbed into his family's car and waved till they were out of the gates.

That night in bed, she couldn't sleep. She twirled the heavy ring on her finger and stared up at the ceiling, the feeling of drunken lightness fading away at the minutes ticked by. Her body felt like lead sinking through her mattress. At three in the morning, she got up out of bed and dressed in a plain traveling skirt and jacket. She retrieved a small bag from her closet and packed all the things she thought she would most need. A brush, a couple of dresses. A shawl. Winnie made her bed and laid the emerald engagement ring on her pillow.

In the still of the early morning, Winnie left her home and walked with confident footsteps across the drive to the heavy iron gates and without looking back, she stepped out onto the road and into the woods.

Fear gripped her, yes, but so did love.

She couldn't, she wouldn't marry Simon, or anyone else for that matter, if it wasn't Jesse. Life was strange, and alluring, and she wanted to spend the rest of her days with people open to change, forced to accept the things they could not change with a smile and love.

Many wouldn't understand why it was that she did what she had done. Maybe in a hundred years she would look back and wish she had never drank from the spring. None of that mattered now, as she tripped in the early dawn light over roots, letting memory guide her feet to the spring.

The light was just piercing the leaves, throwing a haze of green light down on the forest floor when Winnie made it to the spring. She dropped her bag on the ground and fell before the water, cupping her hands into the cool liquid and bringing it to her lips.

_No going back, _Winnie thought, looking at her reflection in the water. She paused and looked around her, feeling in that moment that everything was different. Her heart felt light in her chest. The wind felt like a cool kiss on her skin.

Time it felt had stopped.

Jesse Tuck was unsure of what to expect as he drove through Treegap. The dirt road had been paved over with asphalt. Most of the shops were the same, if not painted over and made glossy to attract tourists in to buy their wares.

He stopped his motorcycle at a red light and looked across the street into the church cemetery.

_No,_ Jesse wouldn't allow himself to think of the possibility.

The drive to the Foster's house was still the same. A gravel road lined with trees on one side and the wrought iron fence on the other. He parked his bike next to the gate and stared up the drive at the white house. Was she there? Waiting like they had promised each other, so many years ago?

Jesse turned and walked into the trees, his feet leading the way. The forest was so different and yet so the same. The light through the leaves was familiar to him. The smell of the great trees and underbrush soothed him. This was where he belonged. Tuck and Mae had tried warning him about what could be waiting for him here in Treegap. Miles had looked on, not saying anything, and saying everything with his silence. He had spent many a night dreaming of Winnie's face. He imagined the feeling of running his fingers through her long hair and what it would feel like to kiss her again.

The path wound up a small hill and he broke through the brush, into the small clearing. And there, between the roots of the trees, where the spring used to bubble up, was a small granite headstone. His heart felt like lead.

He had considered the possibility that Winnie would choose to live a different life. That perhaps their time together hadn't been enough to choose him. Over the last hundred years he had thought of nothing but her. He had met many a woman who charmed their way into his bed, had vainly fought to be his, but none cast the impression that Winnie Foster had. And try as he might to let her go, he never could.

When they had first left Treegap, he had wanted to return immediately for her. Tuck advised against it. Winnie's kidnapping was still fresh in the minds of the residents of Treegap and Jesse would do no favors to himself, Winnie, or his family if he went back for her so soon.

As the years passed, he found it harder and harder to return. He feared finding her married. Then he feared she would have babies and grandbabies, and that she would be old and eventually that she had died. The not knowing was almost better then knowing what had happened to her.

And here was the proof.

The granite headstone was a memorial to Winifred Foster. To her memory and he felt it was the end of his life. He wished it were.

So many years of waiting, gone to waste. _Why_ had he waited for so long?

A branch snapping brought him back to the present and he turned to lock eyes with a young woman. Her dark hair was cropped close to her shoulders, wildly curly and her blue eyes penetrated deep into his. She stood calmly, her hands by her side.

Jesse took in her simple jeans and shirt and asked, "How long have you been standing there?"

The girl smiled and said "A long time, Jesse Tuck."

"Winnie," Jesse breathed, jumping up and striding over to her.

Winnie had tears cascading over her cheeks, her mouth open in a large smile. She met Jesse stride and they collided, holding tightly to one another. He kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, her hair. "Winnie Foster, I feared you dead!"

A laugh escaped Winnie's lips and she kissed him deeply.

"I thought you had forgotten about me," She whispered.

Jesse took her face in his hands and gently kissed her. The feeling of her lips against his was better then he could have ever imagined.

"How could I ever forget about you, Winnie," Jesse replied.

Winnie smiled up at his face, a face she hadn't truly forgotten and took his hand in hers. She decided it had been worth the wait for Jesse, and wondered how she ever could have thought otherwise.

Time it felt had started passing again.

**Soooo…. I may continue on with this one. It's my first Tuck Everlasting fic, and I'm kind of obsessed with the film right now. If my copy of the book weren't over three hundred miles away, I'd be reading it cover to cover like a hungry fiend, I'm sure. This has been stuck in my head for a while, and a revisit to Fanfiction after years away seems to have reopened my lust for this sort of thing. **

**I don't own anything: all characters belong to Natalie Babbitt. **


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